Head to Head
by Evelyn-Sunshine
Summary: The boys visit a friend they've known since they were kids and Dean's not looking forward to the reunion.
1. Faith

"Are we going in, or what?" Sam demanded. The Impala was parked in front of an old house in Flagstaff, Arizona, and Dean wasn't exactly looking forward to the little reunion he was about to have. "She's a Seer, Dean, she already knows we're here." He shrugged and looked at the sign in the lawn. _Naylor Psychics, Palm and Tarot Readings, By Appointment Only. _The Naylors weren't your average psychics, they were prophets in the great tradition of Cassandra of Troy and could read the future like most people read the paper only better. "You know, in case she didn't notice us in the fifteen minutes we've been sitting here."

"Okay, fine," Dean snapped, opening his door roughly. "But this is a bad idea."

"It was _your_ idea," Sam reminded him.

"And it's a bad one," he replied. "Annie hates me."

"Maybe if you didn't call her Annie…" Sam said slowly.

"I _always _call her Annie!"

"_Fat _Annie!" Sam retorted. "Her name is Faith. _And_ she was never really fat."

"I never said she hated me for something that wasn't completely my fault," he pointed out as Sam knocked on the door. "And I was eight, what did you want me to do?"

"_Not _constantly call her fat or _stop _when you turned twelve?" Sam muttered just before the door opened.

"Sammy!" a young woman said excitedly when she saw them, immediately going to hug him.

"Hey, Faith," he replied. "You look really good."

"Thanks," she said happily, turning back and forth slightly. "I was in a car accident and had my jaw wired shut for six weeks. I'm a size eight now." Her look darkened when she turned to Dean. "What are you doing here, jerk?"

"Hey, Annie," he mumbled, a bit uncomfortably. "I left you a message."

She stared at him for another long few seconds then turned back into the house, motioning them to follow. "You want to know about Sam and all the others like him. Specifically if Sam's gonna go all Dark Side."

"Basically, yeah," Dean confirmed.

She whirled back around. "Can't help you." She turned to Sam and said apologetically, "Sorry, I am. But I'm not touching this. If I'm not careful, I'll be dragged into this, and it'll end badly. Me being _dead _badly."

"You gotta be kidding me," Dean muttered after a moment. "Is this because I taunted you your entire life?" he demanded. "Because you've always been totally hot."

Faith gave him an annoyed look. "Yes, Dean. I'm glad you've noticed everything I do is somehow directly connected to _you_. And your calling me attractive in such a grudging way, _totally _makes up for the past twenty years. This has nothing to do with my desire to live to thirty, hell no. It's because you incessantly call me fat." Dean was shifting uncomfortably at this point while Sam valiantly tried not to smile so broadly. "But now that you've called me on this, I've seen the error of my petty, girly ways. I need to do some work on my insides and I think I'll start with this. I will get right to thoroughly _pissing off _the Demon." She crossed her fingers a smiled a bit too widely. "I hope he sets me on fire."

"Point beaten to death," Dean informed her. "And you're a liar."

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Author's Note: I don't own Supernatural. I know that. And this is set sometime after Sam finds out what John told Dean. Only a little spoilers later on, but nothing you don't already know if you've seen any of season two.


	2. Battle of Wills

Faith's eyes went wide with fury and Sam looked between them nervously. "_Dean_," he hissed. "I _think _she'll kill you!"

"You're so full of crap it's almost cute," he continued, completely ignoring his brother. "You know something."

"What the hell could I know?" she demanded.

"_Something_," he said a bit childishly.

"I don't know anything." She crossed her arms and glared at Dean who glared right back. "Okay then. Say I am hiding something. What do you suppose my motives are?"

"Spite," was the immediate reply.

"Really?" she demanded. "Spite. You don't think my motives might be a _little _bit more noble? Or that I actually _don't know _anything?"

He smirked a bit. "You might hate me, but I know you… _Annie._ And you're lying. Badly too."

"Yeah, I know you too, Dean," she said with a taunting smirk. "What're you gonna do to make me tell the truth? Smack me around a little?"

"I'm not playing here," he warned her.

"You think I am?" she demanded darkly. "I've known you long enough, Sam's part of my family too. Don't you even _pretend _like I don't care!"

He got right in her face and she didn't even blink. "Who's pretending?" he demanded. "I'll flat out say it- if you cared, you _wouldn't _leave this alone. You'd do something."

"Maybe there's nothing _to _do," she shot at him, unflinching as they stood toe-to-toe. "Maybe Sam's a lost cause."

Dean's eyes narrowed and he snarled, "You of all people…"

Sam watched in silence as they stared each other down, wanting to get between them, but afraid of what they'd to to him if he tried. Either one of them, he would bet on winning a fight against anything that challenged them, but against each other… Sam wasn't sure he wanted to see the bloody mess that would turn into.

"Get out," Faith ordered calmly, finally breaking the silence. Dean didn't so much as blink. She said a bit more forcefully, "Sam, I said _get out_." Sam looked between Faith and Dean in surprise. She added, "And don't try to listen at the door."

"Sam, _go_," Dean snapped as they very cautiously stepped back from each other.

"Dean-" he started to protest, but stopped when Dean broke eye contact with Faith to glare at him. He nodded once then closed the door behind him as he left.


	3. The Wall

"You realize I'm telling him the second we leave, right?" he demanded the second the door was shut.

She took a step to the side; Dean followed suit and they slowly began circling each other, predatory expressions on their faces. "That's up to you. I have a great fondness for free will."

"You don't care?"

"_Of course _I care," she retorted. "That's why I made him leave. What you choose to do is on your head, Dean. So long he doesn't hear it from me, Sam can know whatever the hell he wants to. He might even find out where babies come from someday."

"What do you know?"

"About where babies come from?"

"You _know_ what I'm talking about."

"Patience is a virtue, Dean, one you should really look into developing," she responded, aggravatingly calm. "You'll get all sorts of conditions, being so angry all the time. Heart attack, aneurysm, blotchy complexion…"

"Trust me, this is me _very _patient._ What do you know_?"

"You're not going to like it," she informed him seriously.

"Tell me anyway."

"What if I say no?"

"You don't really get that option," he told her a bit harshly.

"_Everybody _gets that option."

He smirked. "Tell me if you even _have_ a future if you don't tell me what you know about Sammy."

"You're not going to like it."

"So you've said. What aren't I gonna like?"

"I don't know anything."

He glared at her. "You _know _I'll hurt you…" he warned.

"Oh, I know," she concurred with a bit of a smirk. "I also know you'd feel bad about it… _this_ time. If for no other reason then good mystics are _so _hard to find."

"Cut the crap, Annie," he snapped. "If you want to make me a monster-"

"_I'm _not making you into _anything_," she interrupted, speaking deliberately. "_You're _not _listening_. I don't know anything. Not a blessed thing. I've got about as much sight as _you _do." She snorted. "And you probably don't even know what you're having for lunch."

Dean stopped suddenly and looked at her suspiciously. "That's not possible."

"Wish that were true, sugar pie, but I'm in the middle of a dry-spell, so to speak. Although I could probably tell you when you're gonna get chlamydia, but that's just basic deductive reasoning with a man-slut like you." Dean scowled and took a step closer and Faith held up her hands in surrender. "Hitting me's not gonna change the fact I don't know what's gonna happen to Sam."

"Have you even _tried_?" he demanded angrily, receiving and incredulous look from Faith. "No, Dean," she answered very sarcastically. "I tried looking into someone's future, Saw a bunch of nothing, and thought, 'Gee, that's odd. Haven't seen that before- _ever_. Well, never mind, it'll probably sort itself out. Why don't I go _paint my nails_!'"

"You looked into Sam's future and Saw nothing?" he repeated. "Nothing, like he's dead?"  
"Nothing like there's a brick wall two inches in front of my face," she explained calmly. "And before you go feeling special, it's not just Sam. It's everything. We're at a crossroads, Dean. A _big_ one. You know that. I've read every text I could get my hands on, and a black out this big, on this scale doesn't happen often."

"What do you mean scale?"

"A lot of people are blocked, I was just lucky enough to be one of the first," she said tiredly. "The coming war is going to change everything depending on who wins, or if it can't be stopped, or…" She took a deep breath. "I don't know a seer who hasn't been about as real as Madame Cleo for weeks now. Until this is over, good luck finding someone who actually _knows_."

"Sammy still has visions," Dean pointed out. "Lot of others too."

"Yeah, he does," she agreed. "Premonitions that are completely random and uncontrollable. Sam can't actively divine the future, so you wouldn't notice a change there."

"And we know the Demon has plans for him," Dean added. "We just don't know what the plans _are_."

Faith nodded. "More than likely, Sammy's gonna get a hell of a lot better at my job before this is all over. My advice? Don't encourage it."

"Well… hell."

"I told you you wouldn't like it," she reminded him.

"So you're motives were noble," Dean said grudging after a moment. "You sure you can't See _anything_?"

"Trust me, I know. I've been able to See since I was _four_, and it's freaking the hell outta me that I can't."

"How long?" he asked.

She shrugged and said, "Five months or so. Not long after I Saw John."

Dean looked at her oddly. "Dad's been dead longer than five months."

She smirked. "I said I _Saw_ him, Dean. I didn't say we had a nice little visit." Her smirked widened a bit. "That happened _before _he died."


	4. Goodbye

"So what did she say?" Sam demanded the moment they were in the car.

Faith watched from her porch as Sam and Dean got into the Impala. She waved as Dean started the engine and closed the door behind herself as they pulled away.

Dean was quiet for a few moments then said, "She saw Dad."

"What?" Sam demanded in surprise.

"A few weeks before he died," he nodded.

"What did he want?"

"She wouldn't tell me."

"What do you mean, she wouldn't tell you? You talked for like an hour!"

"It was about her first vision, but she wouldn't tell me anything else."

"Her first vision? Like ever?" he asked, highly confused. "Why would Dad care about that?"

"What Dad told me before he died, that came from her."

"How do you know that?" he demanded.

He shrugged. "I was eight, I didn't know exactly what she said but I knew it was about you and it freaked Dad out. Pieced some things together…"

Sam looked at him carefully for a few second then excepted it as truth. "Wha'd she say about _me_?"

Dean smirked. "Got a bit of a crush now that Annie's all thin, huh?"

"_Faith_ told you something about me. What was it?"

"Look out for the clap."

A grin spread over Dean's face and Sam shook his head in annoyance. "Jerk."

"I swear!" Dean laughed. "Word for word what she said. 'Tell Sam to look out for the clap.'"

"_Seriously_, Dean."

"Seriously?" Dead repeated, his tone sobering up. "You're in good shape."

"Really?" he demanded. "That's what Faith said?"

He nodded. "Really. Well, you know, apart from the whole gonorrhea thing." He started laughing again and Sam turned back to stare angrily out at the road. "Oh, come on! Lighten up, would ya? It's curable, so it's funny!"


	5. First Vision, 19 Years Ago

John Winchester liked to look of the old Victorian house he pulled up in front of. It was worn and cared for, unassuming and mysterious. Also, if you looked closely enough, you could see etchings of protection all over it.

The boys were just glad to be out of the car. It had been a long ride from Kansas to Arizona, but Missouri told him that if he wanted to know what she couldn't tell him, the Naylors were who to see and he definitely couldn't stay in Lawrence.

Cal Naylor was waiting for them when the arrived. He was an older man, not particularly distinguished in his late fifties, but he couldn't complain as he still had all of his hair. He lived in the Naylor House with is son and his wayward daughter's girls. They weren't a prominent family, but they held their own allure in certain circles.

He led the Winchesters into the house and the three were waiting near the bottom of the staircase. He waved the boys over and nodded to the girls. "Sam, Dean, these are my granddaughters Farah, Cassie, and Faith. Why don't you kids go upstairs and play while we grown-ups have a chat."

The girls were about fourteen, twelve, and four, all chubby-cheeked and all red-heads of varying shades, the youngest being a blonde with only a touch of red in her curls. She darted forward and grabbed Sammy by the hand. "You can come play with me." Sam's eyes went wide in surprise and she yanked him toward the stairs. "I'm not gonna bite you- Pop says I'm not allowed!"

The older children followed more slowly and Cal led John into the parlor, specially designed for people who had no idea what real psychics were. "So, you're wife was killed three, four years ago. What do you know about what did it?" Cal asked before they were even comfortable seated.

John liked that he didn't waste time. "Not much," he admitted.

Cal ran a hand over his mouth and back under his chin. "Well," he drawled after a moment, "you're sure in this shit, aren'tcha?"

"Seems like," John agreed. "You see anything?"

He shook his head slowly. "Yellow eyes… high level sumbitch. Can't see too much of him, but there ain't much to see. You are one fucked hunter."

"How do I find it?"

"Oh, you don't," he chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Not if you don't want to die. But, you kinda do, so… I guess I can set ya on his trail. It's not gonna be an easy find though. That's for damn sure." There was a thud upstairs and one of the kids started screaming. John and Cal ignored it. "You'll be lucky to piece this together in twenty years."

John thought a moment then asked, "But I'll kill it?"

The screaming continued and Cal finally looked up at the ceiling. "Of all the damned times…" he muttered as they heard someone barreling down the stairs.

"Pop, Faithy won't stop screaming," Cassie said hurriedly before dashing back. John and Cal hurried after her, Cal taking the stairs two at a time.

"What happened?" Cal demanded, noticing the overturned tea table.

"Nothing!" Farah insisted, trying to hold onto her sister. "She was playing with Sam then she twitched and started screaming."

Faith howled, more from fright than actual pain, but she was inconsolable and refused to be held by her sisters. She ran to John when he appeared in the doorway, wrapped her arms around his leg, and sobbed into his jeans.

"Girls, take Sam and Dean downstairs," Cal instructed. He knelt down and gently pried his granddaughter off John's leg. "Baby girl, what's the matter?" he asked gently. She rubbed her eyes and sobbed louder. He stared in amazement. "Did you _see_ something?"

She nodded. "The Demon with Yellow Eyes!" she sobbed. "He's planning a war and human's are going to be the soldiers. He's amassing thousands of psychics to fight on the side of Hell. They're all normal people, but he'll turn them one by one and make them do horrible things, and the only way to stop them is to kill them." She sobbed a bit harder. "And nothing can kill him except the Colt."

"What the hell's the Colt?" John muttered as Cal quieted his granddaughter.

"It's a myth," he muttered in return.

"And I saw Sam," the little girl said, hiccupping slightly as she wiped her cheeks dry.

It was John's turn to stare in amazement. "What did you say?"

"Sam's one of them," she said, looking up at him, something in her eyes far older than four. "If he becomes evil, he'll be lost forever… just like all the others."

That was the day John made it Dean's purpose to watch out for his little brother.

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Author's note: I may have more if anyone's interested.


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